


All boundaries are conventions

by Veraverorum (your_Mother)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, Self-Harm, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, orc used as slur, reted for graphic depiction of self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:56:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1454509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_Mother/pseuds/Veraverorum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from the Hobbit kink meme</p><p>[It is said that if you cut out your soulmark, the bond will go away.</p><p>When Nori's name appears on Dwalin's skin, Dwalin is shocked. He gives it all the deliberation it needs, but in the end, cuts the soulmark away (perhaps after some truly horrific crime is (wrongly) blamed on Nori). </p><p>Years later, he goes on the Quest to Erebor, free from all obligation to that ridiculous soulmark thing. There is simply that niggling curiosity why any deity/fate would think they would work out together. He sees the same curiosity on Nori's face when he touches the scar on his arm...]</p><p>I may have tarted the prompt a bit</p>
            </blockquote>





	All boundaries are conventions

**Author's Note:**

> If I've not put enough warnings, please let me know. I don't want to distress anyone :3

In the Dwarf society, one was considered an adult the day the soulmark appeared on their body.  
Not everyone presented at the same time. Some developed it early, some later.  
  


It was not paraded around for public decency, but family and a few close friends were usually alerted of the new condition, in order to help the couple come together.

It was a festive day, the day of the soulmark appearance.

  
Dwarrows would reunite under the same roof to party, beer meads and other delicacies were consumed aplenty and a special bead in the hair would mark the passage from dwarfling to adult.

Most likely the mark would appear on one's wrist, their One's public name worn as a private trophy till the day the two halves finally united, bonded in an undying connection. Then, and only then, the soulmark would change into their One's true-name.

 

 

 

When the second son of Fundin presented, every member of their still living family was invited to partake in the festivities, for very few of them were left.

  
Every adult gave Dwalin a resounding pat on the back and congratulated him. Even Thorin, his cousin and best friend with whom he had an everlasting competition going on, dropped his sourpuss mask for one night and cheered for Dwalin.

  
As the general joy went one, nobody knew the dwarf that would go by the name marked on Dwalin's wrist.

 

Nonetheless the festivities went on all night long.  
  


Dwalin drank plenty of beer, so much to rend irremediably sticky his bushy beard, and when at the coming of dawn he reached his and his brother's room, he sat at the window.

 

Putting his left wrist out in the air to absorb the last stars' light, he traced with already thick fingers the four runes placed on his skin.  
  


Nori.  
  


Who could Nori be?  
  


Dwalin tried to envision a dwarf with that name.

 

Nori could be an honourable fellow who he had yet to meet in the military ranks, shoulders squared from exercise and ability.

 

Or a miner from another town, come from far away to establish trades, beard woven in intricate braids representing other costumes.  
  


Or a pretty lass with a large bosom and posterior he would meet one day while patrolling the market.

 

 

A loud knock on the door awoke Dwalin from his mark-gazing.

  
His brother Balin stood on the threshold of their chamber, placid smile bestowing on Dwalin all the brotherly comprehension for the special moment he was living.  
  


“May I enter and intrude on your forlorn lovestruck self?”

 

“Don't be such a poet!” Dwalin threw his brother the first blunt object he could get a grip on.  
  


Balin was not so affected by alcohol as his little brother and dodged the book easily with a laugh.  
  


“It's your room too, you can enter you old maggot,” Dwalin snickered.

 

In few strides Balin was kneeling by his side, on the floor next to Dwalin.  
  


Their foreheads touched and Dwalin could feel his brother's hands on his shoulder.  
  


“This is an important moment for you my brother, as for many dwarrows before you and me. Mahal has shown you the path you must take to live a complete existence. Now it lays upon you, this responsibility. Become a dwarf your One will be proud to call their own.”  
  


Balin turned to his desk, opening a drawer and taking out some white bandages.

 

“This” he presented the linens to Dwalin “will be your prison and salvation for the rest of your life. Be sure to bind your mark as no indiscreet gaze can intrude upon that name.”

 

Balin held Dwalin’s wrist gently in his own hands, and started to bandage it expertly.  
  


“I hope Mahal will bestow every happiness on Nori and you.”

 

When he finished, he put his own bandaged wrist next to Dwalin's one.  
  


“You're a Dwarf now,” and his expression softened immediately, “but you're still my baby brother.”

 

 

 

Years passed and Dwalin grew up. He finished his military training and still there were no trace anywhere of a Nori.  
  


The warrior concentrated his efforts on practical stuff rather than on ephemeral sentimentalism as opposed to what he’d done when he had been young, just reaching his adulthood.

 

Nori became just a mark on his left wrist, with not much meaning behind the secretiveness expected from him on the matter.

  
He fought in the great battle of Azanulbizar, where many lost their lives and many their beloved ones. The sufferance caused by so many deaths was incommensurable.

 

It would become a common sight in the years to come, the pilgrimage of widows and orphan children travelling to Moria to pay respect to the deceased on war field.

 

It was said to be the most honourable of deaths, but still left behind a terrible hurt in the survivor of a bounded couple, even if the two did not meet during their lifespan.

  
Dwalin met some in this situation and found them the most sorrowful sight on which to lay eyes upon, for they would never meet the One they were destined for.  
  


 

  
After the battle, life carried on, trying to seem as normal as possible.  
  


Dwalin took job as guards chief in the city of Ered Luin. His platoon patrolled the streets of the city and managed the more feverish souls in prison.

 

It happened late during one boring night just like any other. Dwalin opened the door of the barracks and when his left foot touched the ground, he felt it.

 

A jolt passed through him, from foot to head.

 

His left wrist started tingling pleasantly.

 

Something had happened. Something he had been secretly expecting during all of his life, something he had lost all hope for, and that yet still festered deep inside his soul.

 

It did not matter that his original destination was another. His feet took him straight to the prisons.

Here he stood, behind heavy bars.

 

The most scrawny thing on the cusps of adulthood Dwalin had ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes upon, a mass of russet hair that would have felt wonderful to pass fingers through, framing perfection in the form of lineaments.

 

There he stood, the One he had awaited for so long.

 

In his eyes was the same wonderment that could be found into Dwalin's ones, or maybe it was that their eyes were reflecting each other. A mirror of a mirror of a mirror of a mirror.

There was also that feeling that told Dwalin to open the gate in order to hug the other one and never let him go. It urged for completion and everything on their path was an obstacle.

 

It made Dwalin laugh silly.

 

A guard and a criminal. How fitting.

 

Without further ado Dwalin marched up to the bars, close but out of arm reach.

 

“Nori” it was not a question but an affirmation. They both know who the other was.  
  


“Dwalin” the russet haired dwarf answered in acknowledgement.

 

He stood slumped against the bars, thin arms poking out perched on top of the horizontal rod, an aware smile lightening his youthful features.

 

A pretty thing inadequate to spend his time in the slumps of the city wrong doing the next fellow.

 

A guard, one of his subordinates, threw the door open after seeing Dwalin going down to the prisons and following him.

 

“Captain, what-?! Ah, that's a thief that was brought in today. He was trying his hand at a lord's pocket.”  
  
Indeed what pretty hands had Nori on himself. Long fingers made to pilfer and please.

 

And what pretty eyelashes, batting so coyly at him to enrapture his soul.

 

  
It took all Dwalin had, to take a step back from the vision in front of him.

 

The prisoner perched up, not expecting that development.

 

Dwalin could almost see the effect the shock had on his features, changing them from chuffed to dismayed.

 

“I do not wish to consort with the likely of you.” it hurt Dwalin himself to make that kind of statement.

 

“You can consort with pigs for how much I care!” Nori spatted back enraged, vibrant fury emanating from his persona.

 

Making one of the most cruel decision he had ever to face during his life, Dwalin exited the room, and then the prisons’ quarters.  
  
Mahal was having a wrong day when He made Dwalin, he was sure of it. Just look at the joke He made out of the dwarf right now.

  
Dwalin told his subordinates he was not feeling well and going home. They did not believe the blatant lie, but let him go. No one would have openly called him a liar.

  
Instead of his house, he directed his feet too the nearest cheap tavern to get sloshed till the sun rose again, and subsequently find his way back only with the support of buildings walls along the way.  
  


 

Balin retrieved his body from under a bench in front of their house. The efforts he made to bring his little brother inside were excessive for one of his age. He was not growing younger and his little brother had grown in a giant of a dwarf. When did that happen? When did it happen, also, for Dwalin to drink himself under the table? Something quite significant must have happened.

  
He left the other dwarf on the floor of the nearest room in order to pick up a water basin and some towels. Dwalin would need them when he recuperated from his comatose state.

  
And then a serious discussion was in order.

 

 

By evening Dwalin returned to a semi-sentient state and had the guts to report the meeting to his brother.  
  


They both agreed there was not much that could be done in respect to the recent events, and enduring life and the hard choices it presented was the most honourable option.  
  


It could be not undone that Dwalin's One was a pickpocket minx from the slums, but it could be stopped if Dwalin did not interact with him.  
  


The family's reputation had to be preserved and it would be.

 

 

 

In the following years it happened multiple times for Dwalin to meet Nori.

  
Sometimes while patrolling the streets it would happen to Dwalin to see long russet hair closely braided bouncing on a tight ass. He had to resist from taking the plait in his hand to pull the smaller body flushed against his own.

  
Or when Nori would end up behind jail bars again, mostly to mock Dwalin with his presence. Everybody at the prisons knew Nori was able to open any lock whenever he so pleased, but there he would be at least for a night to bait and lure that one captain into a scream battle.

  
Even the spies knew to report to Dwalin when they heard rumours about Nori and his whereabouts, and other inmates had to be cautious on what terms they used when they talked about Nori. Referring to his thighs as the doors for Mahal's hall was not the best course of actions in front of Dwalin, unless one just wanted multiple fracture as payment for the entrance.

 

 

 

Not that Dwalin could have more than that from his relationship with Nori, but glimpses of the other and shout-out matches were somewhat soothing for his proved soul.  
  


 

There were times when his mark would itch so much that Dwalin wondered why he was denying himself what and who was his for birthright, but never ever would he touch the other.  
To touch Nori, to even brush against him would be to surrender to that obscure and animalistic part that wanted to take _take_ _**take**_ and never give back.

  
Astounding how much four letters on his skin could change his nature and his priorities.

 

 

 

Although, a night changed everything in their lives and relationship.

 

The moon was at her apex and Dwalin's shift almost over when a messenger arrived whit news of a scuffle in a tavern of the slums. Nothing unusual if not for the fact that daggers where already been drawn and a death was mentioned.

 

The guards did their best to reach the location on the shortest time possible, and when they arrived the brawl was still going on full force.  
  


And amidst all those fighting bodies and shining blades Dwalin could see Nori, his eyes zeroing on him, while the rest of the room faded into nothing.  
  


He was there, slowly falling to his knee with a knife embedded in his ribs.  
  


No one could have expected Dwalin to react the way he did.

 

He was immediately on the dwarf who had pierced his thief, an obscure force possessing him to protect to the extent of destroying everything.

 

It took mere seconds, not even a minute actually, for Dwalin to succumb to his dark side and re-emerge only when five of his subordinates were trying to restrain him to the floor and prevent him from killing the dwarf that had the face reduced to a gory pulp by now.

 

There was blood everywhere on his hands, and not only that.

 

Dwalin looked at his bloody hands and was terrified of himself for a moment. Not even during Azanulbizar...

 

 

 

Everything and everyone was soon cleared from the dive.  
  


That night Ered Luin's jails worked at full capacity, keeping the brawlers separated in different cells. There was also a lot of first aid going on for them. Who received simple black eyes and who suffered major injuries. Everyone was treated accordingly.

 

That also went for Nori. After removing the blade, he was stitched back and his chest bandaged.  
And Dwalin too. He was brought to a different section of the barracks, hands to be mended back and a lecture waiting for him.  
  


Thorin had not been happy about his conduct. It was ridiculous and disrespectful towards the gendarmerie and the Line of Durin.  
  


As morning came, Dwalin was sent back to home, chastised and expected to be on his best behaviour from then on.

  
When Balin saw the bruised hand his little brother was sporting, he demanded an answer immediately. The report Dwalin gave him was not heart-warming.  
  


Soulmark exacerbation, that's what he called it.

  
Balin proposed to eliminate the issue at the roots by this point. Cut the soulmark, solved the problem.  
  
Again, Dwalin found himself in front of an hard choice.

 

He did feel disgust for himself, for how easily he could be manipulated by four runes and a pair of coy eyes.

 

Such a lower status dwarf was not someone with whom Dwalin could possibly see himself spend the rest of his life with. And more so, they could not let anyone know about the debauchery, not even Thorin with whom they shared a deep friendship, or they would lose their family honour and right to serve Durin's Line main branch.

 

Still, the soulmark was a gift from Mahal Himself. The certainty of somebody else out in that world was made perfect for oneself.  
  


What a great gift!

  
Dwalin did find that present lacking and as soon as he was mentally ready, he found himself disposing of it.

 

 

  
The day Nori was well enough to get out of prison, Dwalin procured the strongest alcohol elves could produce – Thorin did not need to know about it – and some well sharpened blades.

  
He drank the liquid straight from the flask, rejoicing as it burned its way down to the dwarf's core, numbing his conscience after some more sips.  
  


Dwalin passed the first knife on the flame, burning black the reflective surface. The sharp point travelled across the first rune, slicing it open. It gave him a sort of sadistic pleasure in doing it. With the blood flowing out so, also his bond with the thief started to dissipate.

 

Rune after rune was traced, and then a square around the forsaken name.  
  


He peeled off the skin gingerly, trying to steady his trembling hand. More than from physical hurt, he was suffering from the depths of his soul.

 

It hurt like if someone was trying to take out the heart from his own chest, gripping it in a clawed clench.

 

But he had to soldier on and end it all.

 

Dwalin took the second knife, passing its blade on the flame till it was hot red. He looked at it, its burning body ready to obliterate a future he could have had.

  
With a precision he didn't know how he could still possess in that state, Dwalin pressed the scorching blade to his bleeding wrist.

  
The room was immediately immersed in a terrible smell of burnt flesh and the dwarf's vision went black.

 

 

When he opened his eyes again, waking up in a puddle of his own perspiration and puke, the only things he had left were a bloody and scarred wrist, and a deep feeling of loss.

 

Upon entrance in the room, Balin understood what had happened there and ordered Dwalin to take a bath to rinse from the unpleasant ritual.

  
He was there with a fluffy towel to welcome his little brother back in the world of the livings and some strong words to warn him about not letting anybody know of what happened that day.

 

From that day onward Nori was never spotted again in town, and no word about him reached Dwalin's ears. Ever again.

 

 

 

Time passed. season after season, and life went on as if nothing ever happened, till the day Thorin decided to put in action his fantasy to recapture their old home, Erebor.

  
Receiving help from Balin and Dwalin went without asking for it. So was for other family members like Oin and Gloin.

 

The two young princes wanted to contribute too, but Thorin found himself refusing without doubt if he wished to not incur in Dis' ire. But the two were as much headstrong as their mother was, only in double measure and after nagging her constantly for a month, they received her authorization to participate to the quest. They were followed by a series of recommendation from their royal mother. Thorin instead was given a preventive telling off.

 

 

Slowly, the last components to the party on the loose were added.  
  


Another family answered to the gold sirens of Erebor bounty. They were two brothers and a cousin, not much for war material but willing to take the risk.

 

Then, a young scribe proposed himself as the journeyman. And wherever he went, his older brother followed.

  
Who nobody, not even his family, expected to offer his services for the quest was the middle brother.

 

 

 

When the news was reported to Dwalin by Thorin of the enrolment of what would become the entire Company, the warrior could do nothing but rejoice at the fulfilment of the first steps toward his cousin's dream.

  
He had gone away to get back some materials for their travel, so he hadn't been around to meet the most of the other components and approve of them.

  
Thorin had a smug smile placed on his face when he handed Dwalin the parchment with all the names signed over.

 

 

He had not been informed of Dwalin's predicament, so it was with the usual kin rivalry gusto that he admired as the name of his One painted Dwalin's face with shock.  
  


The guard staggered back till his knees hit a chair and he dropped like a dead weight sitting on it.  
That list had made him recoil in disgust and shame, and maybe a faint hue of regret was there, but it was easily overpowered by the other negative feelings.  
  


“What a mean joke has fate made of me. Be aware Thorin that if I follow you in this rush venture is only due to the deep affection I have fore you.”  
  


As Dwalin massaged his temple with a tattooed hand, rubbing the tightly bandaged wrist against his eyes, Thorin started reconciling the dwarf his friend had been with the exhausted one he had in front of himself.

  
And the key of it all must have been a four letters name and the dwarf linked to it.

 

 

 

 

The first time he laid his eyes on Nori after so many years, that could have been two decades or a lifetime, Dwalin felt trepidation possess him.

  
The thief had fallen inside the master hobbit's house together with the rest of the company.  
  


Dwalin could see his braid appear from under someone else's body. It still looked silky and luscious and perfect to be grabbed onto while riding its owner.

  
Actually Dwalin had lusted after Nori's forms even past the moment their bond had been broken. He had spent many nights reaching completion through his hand, fuelled by thoughts of the thief's body and memories of their squabbles in the cells. He had spent as many mornings being ashamed of his little control on his urges.

  
After having fantasized about him for so long, and especially after having broken their bond, Dwalin was nervous about looking Nori in the eyes.  
  


  
The pile of dwarves disentangled and rose up from the floor and Nori lifted his head.  
  


When he saw who was sitting at the hobbit's table he was taken aback.  
  


For sure he must have read Dwalin's name on the contract, but seeing him in meat and bones after so many years was a different matter.  
  


  
The two dwarves united by destiny but split by their own actions looked in each other's eyes.

 

That pull that was inside them during their first meeting was no longer present.  
  


They assessed each other, the changes that time had bestowed upon them, the changes themselves had inflicted upon themselves.  
  
Dwalin fixed his look on the thief's wrist, tightly bound but still a thin twig for a dwarf even when Nori's body had developed some muscles of its own.  
  


And those fingers still seemed as nimble as the day they met.  
  
Upon lifting his head, Dwalin discovered Nori gazing at the soldier's bandaged wrist.

 

  
  
At first they tried to ignore each other.  
  


They both had signed up for the Quest and there was no point in creating ulterior problems, so they went on and refused to acknowledge the other's existence.

 

But the enemies they dealt with along the way pointed out to them their situation could no longer carry on the same.

 

 

First they agreed on a truce, while boiling food around the campfire.  
  


No need for the non-involved ones to pry into their business.  
  


Beside their brothers and Thorin, the other members where unaware of their broken bound and considered their enmity to be born from the opposed sides of the law they associated with before joining the Quest.  
  


It was more convenient if they collaborated to survive and help the others too against the mishaps occurring along the journey.  
  


  
It may have been just a stroke of luck that Dwalin was there close to Nori to help him get out from under the debris in Goblin Town.  
  


Or that he was there when Nori needed a lift to climb on a tree to escape Azog's wargs.  
  


And all the following times they helped one another.  
  


They were getting closer and they did not see it.

  
Both stubborn as any dwarf, they did not want to see it after the sufferance they had caused each other in the past.  
  


  
But the time for the departure to the last stage of their Quest was coming closer and Dwalin kept feeling his slashed skin itching again.  
  


He didn't think too much of it in the beginning, but the more time he spent with Nori, closer to him, aiding each other, the more his wrist ached, and the blood underneath felt like boiling lava.

  
The bond must have been broken, or Dwalin would have suffered and denied himself the perpetual need for nothing.  
  


And not just to himself.  
  


He saw it in Nori's eyes. Behind the perpetual hate and disgust - or so feigned feelings-, behind the improved tolerance, there was that sparkle of curiosity that Dwalin felt as well.  
  
They were both questioning in silence why Mahal had decided for them to be the One of the other.  
  


Why, when they could not be more different?  
  


One was a lawful dwarf, loyal subject of a fallen dynasty , and the other couldn't stand to be ruled by social norms, least of all be at the service of somebody.  
  


Yet there was the wonderment that flew in their veins next to their blood, that kept them looking at each other from afar and come closer and closer.  
  
And for the first time in their life, one night in Lake Town they found themselves alone.  
Nobody would be there to stop whatever fight could happen. Also nobody beside themselves was there to judge them.  
  
“Why did you hurt yourself, you piece of hairless orc skin?” Dwalin was surprised he hadn't been the first to speak up, and Nori kept going. “You didn't stop to think I would feel it too?”

  
The thief undressed his wrist slowly while talking “What was too much for you? Were you ashamed of me as a pincher? As a whore? As a faithless piece of scum?!”  
  


Nori had fully stripped his wrist and showed Dwalin the remaining of what once must have been his name.  
  


There were scarred cuts covered by healed burnt skin. So similar to what Dwalin had undergone himself, by his own will.  
  
He was taken aback. Dwalin wouldn't have imagined his actions would have affected Nori so hard.  
“I wasn't ashamed of you as much as I was of myself. You. You...”

  
Dwalin unclothed his own wrist. “You were too much for me. Your presence influenced me too strongly. I feared who I had become when you were concerned. Couldn't control myself. Would you have been strong enough to endure me?”  
  
“You didn't give me a chance. You took the decision away from me!” Nori had risen his voice and his face become blotched with the effort of not attacking the guard. Dwalin still found him the most entrancing sight.

  
“It could have been something. We could have been something. Together. But you decided, alone.”  
  
Dwalin could feel it. The regret.

  
It seeped out from Nori's words and it festered inside Dwalin's heart.  
  
Dwalin looked at his wrist. But that wasn't just his wrist. It was Nori's name, deleted from his life.  
And on Nori's wrist it was the same occurrence.

  
And the lives they could have shared.  
  
How much of an orc-headed douche could Dwalin have been?  
  


Ones were dwarven gifted by Mahal himself.

  
And even without Mahal's benediction, Dwalin had found out that Nori wasn't that bad of a fellow has he had thought.  
  


He was a resilient fighter given the opportunity and had a dry humour on his tongue. And Dwalin still lusted after his body.  
  


Must have been the same since he had sometime caught Nori peeking at his biceps and shoulder and thighs.  
  


What had he done?!  
  


 

  
Dwalin wavered but, may Smaug burn him alive, he needed to say it. “Do you think that if I told you I'm sorry, you could forgive me?”

  
“Do you think me stupid?!” Nori immediately answered him, so close to him.

  
Dwalin had not noticed him coming closer, and looked at the other straight in the eyes. “No, never thought that of you. You've always been too smart for it to be acceptable. An enigma for me. And I regret what I've done to me and to you, 'cause we've been great so far.”

  
“Yes we have.” Nori was right there in front of him, his tantalizing presence mocking him.  
  


“We could still be–”  
  


“You've a lot to be forgiven for.”  
  


“I know.”  
  


“You'll have to work a lot.”  
  


“I'm ready to do it.”  
  


“Good. Then you can start right now. Giving me that kiss you denied me in your cell that night.”  
  
  


Dwalin had never felt more elated, and his mouth did not take much to close upon Nori's one.  
  


What he felt in that instant was a new experience for him. Ineffable.  
  


He almost prized Mahal for it, but laughed at the joke that the whole situation was.  
  


If it hadn't been for Mahal maybe...  
  


Maybe nothing.  
  


Nori and him were right there right now, and even if tomorrow they would have to fight the worm in Erebor, Dwalin would prove for the rest of his life that he was worth of Nori's forgiveness.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations if you've read this fic till the end!  
> This is the longest work I've ever written for this fandom and in English and probably also the longest fic I've ever written, but it was for a special recurrance.  
> April the 12th marks a year since I posted my first fic for The Hobbit fandom.  
> This has given me the opportunity to explore better the fandom and exercise my habilities. I'm not yet an accomplished writer, I still lack some skills, but I'm working on them and I've never written so much for a fandom as I've done in this year for The Hobbit.  
> More importantly I've met lots of wonderful people with whom I've shared common passions and friendship and from whom I've learned and still learning.  
> This is my thank you to all of them, artists and non-artists alike.  
> THANK YOU!
> 
> self-pimpage 'cause I'm being emotional now XD  
> you can find me at veraverorum.tumblr.com


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